


Yesterday

by TrashqueenofAngmar91



Series: The General and the Secretary [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Grievous needs a hug, Headcanon, In which I make up shit about Kaleesh culture, Injury Recovery, Legends Grievous backstory, Male-Female Friendship, Reader is a woman, Takes place a few months before ROTS, You can even view this in a romantic way if you really wanted to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-01-31 22:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18600445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashqueenofAngmar91/pseuds/TrashqueenofAngmar91
Summary: "'That was yesterday'," he recited. He paused, noticing your surprise and desire to be enlightened more. "It is a poetic, figurative term used amongst my people. When I say it, I mean it was many years ago."Part of my "The General and the Secretary" series.





	Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> I felt that this needed done. Grievous deserves his love and attention so I figured why not. That and I'm a sucker for his original backstory. 
> 
> The title of the story is directly inspired by the song of the same name by Foreigner. When I hear it, I think of our favorite cyborg instantly LOL. You could even say the song compelled me to create this. Feel free to look it up and check it out if you're curious enough. 
> 
> Not much more to comment on, I just hope you guys enjoy it!

Yesterday

As soon as the door automatically parted, a blast of chilled air poured out. The examination room was dimly lit. The only sources of light that radiated in the compact space were the soft glow of display screens and small, intermittent flashes that flickered on and off from the various medical equipment strewn about. Silhouettes of these specialized machines stood out vaguely amidst the darkness, almost looking like strange and almost twisted shadows.

There was a sharp, sterile smell in the room but there was also the scent of something that had been horribly singed. The aroma assaulted your sense of smell and you exhaled forcefully through your nose a few times to clear it of the pungent odor. To your disgust, you thought you could even taste the smell and it bothered your gag reflex something terrible.

As you stood in the doorway, taking in the strange, cold scene, all was silent save for one, distinct noise. It was rhythmic and it sounded like it was in a perfect and consistent pattern. It was deep and slow and as odd as it was, it seemed to make the room less dismal and inhospitable. It was primeval yet calming at the same time. And it was also the only thing that was of organic origin on nearly the whole ship for that matter.

Gradually, your eyes adjusted to the darkened conditions and you could make out a gentle luminosity further ahead. The glow almost looked sallow and yet it seemed to reflect off the ceiling. It also appeared as if it was rippling much like water. The scene reminded you exactly of light dancing across that precious fluid and casting a muted, ghostly radiance.

Truth be told, you were uncomfortable with this. The ambiance the room exuded did nothing to placate you and you felt even more out of place and intrusive. You really felt as if you shouldn't have been there. Initially, you assumed he would've wanted solitude and peace so he could begin his recovery process. After all, he had been in quite the altercation and from what you had heard, it nearly cost him his life. It was quite the ordeal and you had no intention to infringe upon his space and privacy.

Despite your discomfort, you wouldn't back out of the room. You had been called in and you wouldn't even dream of ignoring this summons. You were specifically requested despite the medical team's reluctance to have you enter his suite. In all honesty, you wanted to heed their advice and keep away. But their patient argued with them and they wouldn't push him any further than necessary.

"Sir?" you called out softly yet loud enough to be heard. "I've arrived as per your request."

His gruff voice didn't shatter the near silence. The sound of the general's steady heartbeat still echoed through the confines.

How you wanted to turn around and walk out…

Biting your lower lip, you forced yourself to walk further into the room. The door clicked nearly inaudibly behind you, signaling that it had closed. There was no turning back.

"Sir," you said again, this time louder.

For the second time, you received no answer. Your reluctance only compiled and you forced yourself to come closer to where you were told he was.

Your vision continuously adapted to the conditions and things were far more noticeable now. The equipment had definite shapes and they were less abstract. The unsavory smell was still potent but seemed slightly less offensive at this point.

As you went deeper, you could make out a circular, tub-like object. When you drew closer, you could see the ripples and luminescence far more easily. It became clear to you that this was a bacta tank.

His heart continued to pulsate. He was alive.

Finally, you stopped when you reached the side of the vessel. Your eyes widened once you truly took in what was before you.

The Kaleesh cyborg's entire body was submerged in the bluish medical fluid. Only his head and part of his neck was above the surface. Although most of his body was obscured by the bacta, you could see that he was missing his entire left leg, his chest cavity had been wrenched open and there were various scorch marks all over his frame. It looked as if his right arm had been mangled or even partially melted.

Clearly, he had been badly battered and it was more than likely he'd need extensive and thorough repairs. The damage he sustained would've more than likely killed him outright if he was still fully organic. All you knew about this incident was that he had been caught in a massive explosion during an engagement with Republic forces. Apparently, he was the only survivor from both sides.

When you finally looked upon his masked face, you saw that his eyes were shut. Grievous was more than likely asleep from what you could conclude. It was possible the medical team had given him sedatives or anesthesia to help him relax and recover in the bacta tub. His entire frame was still and no signs of life came from him save for the sound of his heartbeat.

Never before had you seen him so vulnerable but peaceful. It was almost something unrealistic and dream-like. It only reinforced your instincts to leave him be and give him quietude. The last thing you wanted to do was agitate him or stress him further and cause his fragile condition to potentially deteriorate further. But he had called for you…

You were at a loss as to what to do. Duty urged you to wake him but your more nurturing side wished to let him rest for as long as possible. This was quite the impasse.

You were snapped from your inner turmoil when you saw his eyes shift beneath their lids. His head moved slightly and a noise came from him that was either a grumbling or some language you didn't comprehend. His heart rate increased slightly.

Something wasn't right and panic started to churn inside your guts. Grievous shifted about more now and he was growling rather loudly. His heart beat faster with each second that trickled by.

"Sir!" you stated firmly, "wake up!"

As soon as you spoke this time, his eyes snapped open. He looked bewildered for a fleeting second and his gaze locked with yours. The two of you stared back at each other for a few moments.

Grievous' eyes were filled with something akin to terror and dread. When you saw that, it immediately unsettled you even further. You could only imagine what he had been dreaming about before he woke up.

"I… I believe you were dreaming, sir," you noted, feeling very awkward. "My apologies but I think you wanted to see me?"

His widened, nearly feral eyes mellowed slowly but surely. His heart slowed once more and his form relaxed yet again.

"Yes," he finally answered. "Despite my injuries, I still must be in control and orchestrate my forces in this war. There is no rest for me even now. Given my condition, I cannot do much of anything until I heal and am given replacement parts."

"Of course, General," you nodded. "And I take it that you needed assistance with your duties?"

He was quiet for a few seconds and you could tell that he hesitated at your question. His pride forbade him from actively and willingly requesting help of any sort but you wouldn't hold it against him. You understood your superior and you would do what you could for him.

"For the time being, yes," he finally answered. "I must remain within this bacta tank for a few days and although it will drive me insane, I must stay here for my own good."

"That's perfectly understandable," you commented. "Although you may not like it, sir, it is for your own benefit and to make sure your condition doesn't worsen further."

Grievous' stare broke away and he gazed up at the ceiling. He watched the reflection of the rippling bacta and blinked slowly and sleepily.

His dedication and zeal for conquest was admirable and sometimes terrifying. In your mind, the Separatists couldn't have selected a better man to command the whole of the droid armies. His fire was unquenchable and he was determined to bring the enemy to their knees. To you, he seemed as if he was the culmination of all the vengeance, anger and desire for justice that the planets of the Confederacy had for the Republic. He was an avatar of destruction and an agent of retribution. No one in their right mind could ever question his mission to break the Republic, set it ablaze and trample upon the remaining ashes.

But in this instance, he seemed to have none of that. Although he said he needed to continue being the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies, it almost seemed…lackluster. He seemed distracted but you had blamed that on the heavy trauma he had clearly suffered from the battle.

"General Merthryn Dapit has completed her invasion and subsequent pacification of Serusii," you announced, wanting to kick things off for him. "I received the necessary summaries and reports from her about two hours ago. She also said she is ready to convert the planet's hydroelectric dams to droid production. She only needs your confirmation and she'll begin the operations."

"That can wait for a few minutes," Grievous said dismissively.

You blinked in surprise at his retort. You were silent for a few seconds, caught off guard by him.

"Very well, General," you said.

"Before we proceed with our duties and briefings, I must ask you one question," he said. "I am aware of how unusual it is and how you may view it as inappropriate. I only want you to answer me truthfully and plainly. I am asking you this question because I trust you."

This was so uncharacteristic and odd. Briefly, you caught yourself wondering if the explosion had rattled his brain and caused damage or altered his personality somehow. But you trusted Grievous. You worked closely with him and you were his aide. You knew you had proven your worth to him and you at least hoped he placed some value on your head. You were no droid and you gave him plenty of respect so you were safe to assume you were one of his more favored individuals.

"I will take no offense, sir," you remarked. "Ask away."

"Were you ever in love before?" he pondered.

At this point, you were convinced he was delirious. There had to have been some damage done to him but you would never insinuate that to him directly. Although he warned you that it was bizarre, you still weren't expecting it. But he wanted you to answer truthfully and truthfully you would answer him.

"Yes," you said, "at least, I was sure I was."

"Elaborate," he coerced.

There wasn't much to say. When you went to school when you were a child, you experienced the fleeting little infatuations that were quickly forgotten about by the end of the week. They were harmless, innocent and fickle.

Your first, real experience was when you were at the military academy. You had fallen for a fellow classmate and he reciprocated your feelings for you. For a few months, the both of you dated and it seemed things were going along swimmingly enough. He was charming, witty, handsome, and he seemed transparent enough to you.

Truthfully, you were glad it only lasted half a year and you broke it off. He ended up not being what he appeared. Beneath that fair face and engaging mannerisms, he was cruel, manipulative and unforgivably selfish. It was only a masquerade and you were happy that you found out what he was like sooner rather than later. You shuddered to think of becoming his wife and spending the rest of your life with him.

Your ways parted and but he graduated with you. The last time you caught wind of him, he was on his way to the planet, Lola Sayu, specifically to serve at the infamous Separatist prison, The Citadel. He was to assigned to be one of the administrators at that establishment and worked directly under the warden, Osi Sobeck. In all honesty, you hoped your former lover ended up tripping and falling into one of the molten rivers.

"There is not much to say about the man I thought I loved, General," you said after a few moments of reflection. "He wore a mask and fooled me for a while before I caught wind of what he really was. I have tried to forget him since then."

"A pity," the Kaleesh commented. "Regrettable."

"I suppose it is better to have loved and lost rather than never loved at all."

Honestly, you were apathetic over the whole matter. You emerged wiser and more cautious from that relationship. Currently, romance was one of the last things on your mind. You were far too busy with the present and war was raging. Perhaps there would be time in the future but for now, no.

"I must argue on that point," Grievous stated in a rather assertive tone. "The opposite is far preferable."

Neither did you predict that he would say something like that. Instantly, you were intrigued and ensnared by his words. He was definitely an enigma of sorts. You had many questions about him but you never investigated or asked him anything personal. You deemed it was unprofessional and inappropriate and you feared you'd end up with a lobbed off head if you did indeed ask. His business was his own and you chose to leave it at that.

"I had someone many years ago," he revealed. "She is the reason why everyone calls me 'Grievous'."

The sound of his heart seemed to grow louder and faster slowly but surely. What limbs and digits he had left twitched beneath the bacta. His eyes narrowed and pinned on your face.

"She was the other half of my heart and soul," Grievous annunciated. "We were one. We were supposed to be one. That's what we promised each other…"

You had no idea how to handle this information he was sharing with you. All you could do was stare back at him, quiet and willing to listen. Whatever he said to you, you would regale it to no one else. The words of the injured and vulnerable were all too intimate.

"' _That was yesterday_ '," he recited. He paused, noticing your surprise and desire to be enlightened more. "It is a poetic, figurative term used amongst my people. When I say it, I mean it was many years ago."

Grievous blinked again. Nostalgia glazed his topaz colored eyes. His mind was racing and you could feel that he was almost softening. This was an instance of weakness that you never thought you'd glimpse.

"And yet, it felt as if it really was yesterday…"

Sympathy bloomed in you for him. Though he had no true face anymore, his eyes and your voice told you everything. You wanted to speak, to say something to try to comfort him but you did not know if he would harshly reject it. This whole scenario was just too unexpected for you to figure out how to proceed next.

"The battle was fierce and bloody," he continued. "We became separated and I tried my damndest to make it back to her side. The enemy slain her and the waters of the sea claimed her, becoming her tomb. I never recovered her or was able to give her a proper burial. So yes… It is better to have never loved at all. The pain lost love leaves behind never goes away. Time helps you deal with it better but the scar never fades. You are lucky."

His story answered one question but inevitably, many more replaced it already. Who was she? How did they become so close? Is this why he hated the Republic so much?

Grievous rested his head back and looked away from you. His eyes stared up at the reflection on the ceiling before he shut them. His heart slowed.

"Sir," you started, deciding to take a chance. "I am so very sorry to hear of such a tragedy. I can tell that you…"

"You may be sorry but you cannot understand," he cut you off. "Pray that you never do." A wheezy sigh came from his vocabulator. "I am weary, far wearier than I previously deemed I was. Give me one day of peace and return. And do tell General Dapit that she has my permission."

You would not push the matter further. In fact, you were glad he was letting you go. He needed to recuperate and rest.

"Do not hesitate to summon me if you change your mind or if you need anything else, General," you said.

Grievous gave you no reply but you wouldn't wait for it either. You left his side and began your exit. You walked briskly but not too quickly, not wanting to reveal how badly you wanted to leave him alone.

He didn't react until he knew you had completely left the room.

The half-droid's vision began to cloud. His eyes burned and the ceiling above him seemed to become marred. His duraplast and duranium frame tensed.

" _That was yesterday_ ," he muttered to himself. "But it felt like today."

Grievous lowered himself further into the pool of bacta, wanting to submerge all of his being in the healing substance. He would linger there, sleep and heal.

No one would be able to see that he wept.


End file.
